Nine days in Dune
by Shadow minx
Summary: Three friends became brothers as they fought together on the front lines. But now, separated from their troop, injured, they must fight harder than ever to make it through alive. As they journey through the deadly Dunes, Major Whitlock, Sergeant McCarthy and Private Cullen will learn more about themselves and each other than they ever thought possible.
1. The Drill

**Authors note: I hope you all enjoy this new story! It's going to a reasonably short story I think. I just wanted to say before i start, I have deliberately said nothing about where this is set or what war is being fought or who they are fighting against, thats because this is a story about friendship and not politics.**

 **With that said, I hope you all fall in love with Privet Cullen, Sergeant McCarthy and Major Whitlock that way i have!**

 **Please please leave your thoughts! They are gold!**

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Chapter 1 – The Drill

"Come on Cullen," the Major called. "don't they play baseball in Washington?"

"They do, Sir." Edward shouted back, his breathing was heavy from all the running and the sand scratched his throat.

"Then why can't you catch the damn ball?" The majors southern drawl was more pronounced when he was shouting, or drunk…at the moment he was both.

"We don't usually start a game while drunk, sir." Edward snatched the ball up and threw it as hard as he could at Major Whitlock. "And we don't usually play with footballs instead of baseballs and buckets instead of gloves, sir."

The Major burst out laughing, doubling over as he caught the ball. Edward got the impression Major Whitlock liked him, thought it was often difficult to tell.

"We work with what we've got Privet," The Sergeant said clapping him round the shoulder. He winced at the force of it, Sergeant McCarthy was menacingly big and Edward was forever glad he was on his side. He'd taken Edward under his wing when their troop was sent out, Edward was scared and alone and more than happy to have someone like Emmett McCarthy looking out for him.

"All right over there Whitlock?" The Sergeant called over as Major Whitlock was still lost in laughter.

He straightened up and pointed at the Sergeant, "That's Major Whitlock to you Sergeant."

Sergeant McCarthy barrelled forward running flat out toward the Major, he was so quick there was real surprise in Major Whitlock's face as the Sergeant leaned forward and tackled him straight to the ground. The two wrestled around in the sand, Edward squinted to see them through the sand and the dark. The rest of the men had fallen in, crowding round the two soldiers as they tumbled.

"I yield I yield!" The Majors voice emerged from the cloud of sand. Half the men whooped and yelped, the other half clenching their fists in frustration, clearly there had been some betting going on. The Sergeant stood and held out a hand for the Major. The Major eyed it warily, "I would have had you if you hadn't fed me those last five beers."

"Of course, sir." Sergeant McCarthy smirked. The two men dusted themselves off as the rest of the men scattered about, starting their game of makeshift baseball again. Edward made his way over to the two men still laughing and covered in dust. He'd been so green when he joined the army, still was so green if he was being honest with himself but he was green with a bit of sand on top thanks to these two men.

The Major was a young man, Edward suspected, though his face was lined with the battles he'd fought, which made it hard to put a number on him. He was strict with his men, but entirely fair. After Sergeant McCarthy had taken a shine to Edward Major Whitlock seemed to warm to him also. The three of them were friends, Edward would have said. Friends wasn't something he was used to having, certainly not something he ever though he would find in the army.

"Men!" The Majors voice called out in the dark. "Lights out. You've had your night off. I expected you all kitted up at oh-eight-hundred tomorrow." A low groan rumbled among the troop. "Excuse me!" His voice bellowed out. There was almost no trace of his current drunkenness.

"Yes, Sir!" The troop, including Edward, called out collectively.

"That's better," He said. He leaned into Sergeant McCarthy, saying something to him Edward couldn't quite make out. The Sergeant nodded and hurried away with the rest of the men. "Privet Cullen, with me." He gestured for me to follow him as he walked away from the barracks into the quiet night. Edwards heavy boots sank into the soft sand as he followed the Major, it wasn't unlike the feeling of walking on the forest floor, he thought, and it was cool here at night, like it was in the forest. He was almost felt homesick. Though the blinding heat of the day time was nothing like the damp cold of Forks, WA.

"Yes, Sir?" Edward asked.

"Why did you sign up Cullen?" He asked. They had stopped walking as they reached the outskirts of their small encampment. The Major leaned down and picked up a lumpy duffel bag.

Edward was taken aback by the question, but when your commanding officer asked you something, you answered. "My father, Sir."

"Let me guess," He said, pulling the bag over his shoulder. "You grew up on military bases, don't know anything else but the military."

"Something like that, Sir. Is that what you brought me out her at ask?"

"No," The major said, thrusting another lumpy duffle into Edwards arms. "I brought you here 'cause you were standing around looking lazy and I needed help with this equipment." Edward shifted the bag over his shoulder as the Major handed him another. "I was just curious."

XXX

The nest morning when the bugle sounded, their rise and shine call, Edwards head was thrumming and could feel those beers from their night off still coursing through his system. The heat, like always, was almost overwhelming, all thought of this being like home forgotten. He fumbled into his heavy kit and made his way to their improvised canteen.

Everything in the camp was improvised and makeshift. Edwards troop was one of three that made up the company, leady by Major Whitlock. There were only 64 men in total in the camp, so they hadn't put much effort into making the place worthy of human life.

The canteen, a generous name, was no more than a few rusty old poles holding up a net with a smattering of barrels underneath the men used as tables. It wasn't what Edward had pictured in the slightest when he signed up. Even when he was posted to the front he thought he'd be staying in a real structure…with pluming. They did have two porta cabins but they didn't half stink.

Breakfast was oatmeal, again, but Edward ate it gratefully. He ate all food gratefully, that was one thing you didn't take for granted around here. Sand was blowing through the canteen and Edward propped his helmet up to protect what little food he had left. It meant the sand was scraping the side of his face, but he thought that was better than the inside of his oesophagus. The other privates sat with him, but no one said a word, a silent understanding that no words were needed.

Edward could see from the corner of his eye the officers reporting to Major Whitlock, that meant there were probably plans to leave the encampment that day. They were all wearing full gear, their skin gleaming with sweat already. Edwards insides twisted at the prospect of going out in full gear, but by the looks of it that's exactly what they would be doing.

When the last of the food was cleared away the orders rang out for all men to be fully equipped and standing to attention in ten minutes. This was not the easiest feet and by the time Edward found himself standing in line with his fellow soldiers he felt he'd had his excursion for the day already.

The three troops stood separately, lead by their Sergeants, awaiting Major Whitlock's orders.

"Good morning soldiers," The Major called.

"Good morning, Sir!" sixty-three voices replied.

"Today we're running a fully equipped drill. Sergeant Stanley's troop is to run north, Sergeant Webbers troop will maintain the camp and Sergeant McCarthy's troop, accompanied by myself, will go east." Murmurs started to break out in the crowd. "Did I say you were dismissed!" Silence fell. "You will receive further instructions from your Sergeant's during the drill, it's going to be a long day so take the provisions you need but remember what you take you carry. Dismissed."

Sergeant McCarthy turned to our small troop of twenty men, "Collect provision and return to the east boarder of camp as quickly as your little legs can carry you, but don't worry, those little legs will be bigger by the end of the day."

Edward gulped, audibly gulped like you only ever see in cartoons. Sergeant McCarthy didn't mess around with drills, especially those involving physical fitness and Edward knew he would be especially hard on him. He did It for the best, but sometimes Edward wished he wouldn't. Though Edward sometimes wished a lot of things. He pushed his thoughts down and focused, instead, on packing just enough food and water for the day. Taking unnecessary provisions meant carrying extra weight. Extra weight meant extra work. Running thought those god forsaken dunes was hard work enough.

Edward could feel sweat trickling down his face already, could feel it catching on the thick padding of his helmet making it damp and unpleasant. His head still pounded and the blazing sun did nothing to ease the ache. Edward had barley taken three steps toward the east edge of the camp and he already had that ache in the pit of his stomach, that one that told him he shouldn't be here, that this wasn't what he wanted. He could hear his dads voice in his head telling him to keep driving on, life was hard, you had to get through. Dr Cullen hadn't exactly forced him into the army, but Edward knew he wasn't cut out for medical school and this was the only other option his father would be happy with, he didn't have to say it for Edward to know it was true.

"Soldiers!" The sergeants voice bellowed out as Edward took his place in line. "We will be running due east, you will follow my lead and when I shout 'positions' you will form defensive ranks. Clear?"

"YES, SIR."

"Hooah!"

"HOOAH!"

The shout hung in the air as the Sergeant broke into a run and Edwards stomach dropped into his boots.

"Look alive Cullen," Major Whitlock's voice sounded out from somewhere to Edwards left. Edwards didn't look round but instead sprang forward, a new wave on energy washing through him as he realised the Major was going to be on his back.

This was not the first of the running drills he'd run with the troop, in fact it was far from the first. But everyone seemed worse than the last. And with their new small build-your-own encampment, he didn't even get a decent shower or nights sleep at the end of it to keep him going. Though the thought of the Major Whitlock at his back was proving to encouragement enough.

"POSSITIONS!" Immediately the men fell to the floor, sand filling in all the cracks as Edwards buried him self, finger on the trigger of his weapon. Eyes scouting for invisibly enemies. Black boots past in front of Edwards eyes as the Major watched for faults in his soldier's positions. Finding none, he nodded to the Sergeant who called form them to break position and continue forward.

Edward tried to imagine he was running again through the trees of Forks, that when he got home his mom would have dinner on the table. Of all the places he had lived, Forks was by far the best. He had been and gone too soon from that place. In the short time he was there it had become home. A picture of a girl flashed in his eye. Her face pale and small, long brown hair damp in the rain, her brown eyes that seemed to see right into your soul. Forks was a good place, _she_ was there.

"POSSITIONS!"

Fall.

"POSSITIONS!"

Sand.

"POSSITIONS!"

Weapons.

How far had they ran? Edward couldn't be sure. A mindless loop of running and sweating and falling and sand. SO much sand.

The sun grew higher and higher and the heat became almost a palpable thing, so thick Edward swore he could have reached out and grasped it.

Edward took step after step in the burning sun. His muscles were aching so much the pounding in his head was drowned out. Step after step everything hurt more. He pushed his discomfort to the back of his mind as he drove onward.

Suddenly a loud noise rang in his ears. He stopped dead as sand exploded in front of him, sending soldiers flying. He stepped forward once more but this time his foot did not hit the hot sand, his body was flung into the air and a deafening sound exploded in his head before his body was slammed into the ground and the world was black.

XXX

When Edward opened his eyes, he saw blood and sand. His eyes scanned the broken wreckage that was his platoon. Body parts and blood scattered the dunes and Edwards breath was coming quicker and quicker as what had just occurred sunk in. He scanned himself over quickly but couldn't find any major injuries. Couldn't find any injuries at all actually. Lucky bastard, he thought to himself.

Was anyone else alive?

He stood to get a better look around. There was some movement over to his right and he rushed over to it, praying someone else was alive, that he wasn't alone out here. The closer Edward got he could see someone walking among what was left of the troop. He squinted his eyes to make out the name written along the bottom of his jacket, _Whitlock._

Relief flooded through him, not only was he not alone out here with the dead, but the Major was with him. Major Whitlock had seemed more of battle and war then Edwards ever dreamed he would see. The Major would know what to do.

"Major Whitlock," Edward called out.

"Cullen?" He called back, turned toward him. "Cullen is that you?" The Major made his way toward him, Edward noticed a hitch in his step and he was holding his side awkwardly, but he was alive.

"Yes, Sir." When he reached him Major Whitlock the officer pulled him in tight for a brief hug.

"Good to see you soldier." Edward could here the sincerity in his voice. "Have you seen anyone else?"

"No one alive, Sir. I only just came too." He confessed. Just as he finished talked someone groaned off to his left. Their head whipped round at the sound. They both rushed over to the side of a soldier struggling to get up. As they reached him Edward knew before he saw his face it was Sergeant McCarthy, no other soldier in the platoon was so big.

"Aw shit," He grunted. There was jagged piece of metal sticking out of his right leg. He turned to the Major. "Pull it out." He spat.

"Hold on tight," The Major said. Edward grabbed onto the sergeant's hand, giving him something to hold on to. Sergeant McCarthy cried out and squeezed Edwards hand, so tight he could have sworn something was broken, as the Major yanked the metal from his leg. The Major pressed his hands into the wound to stanch the bleeding and Edward scrambled to pull something from his kit to wrap round the wound.

"Can you walk?" Major Whitlock asked.

"I think so," The Sergeant replied. "Its not too bad. Shit Whitlock, you're bleeding!"

Edward looked down and noticed the side Major Whitlock had been holding awkwardly was covered in blood, his face seemed to be growing paler.

"Worry about your self soldier, it's just a scratch. We did just get blown up after all." He shrugged him off. "Shit," He said, looking out over the wreckage. "We need to get back to the base. McCarthy, sit there. Cullen you and me check for any survivors then we need to get back to camp."

"Yes, Sir." Edward said.

"No, I can help." The Sergeant protested. "It's just a scratch," he said pointedly.

"Suit yourself, Sergeant." He stood and held out a hand, the Sergeant took it and got himself awkwardly to his feet. Edward noticed the Major wince as he pulled him to his feet. He had a feeling he was more injured than he was letting on. He only hoped they could make it back to the camp and get evac in time.

Edward set about walking through the blood and sand. The day was getting colder now as the sun started to dip. His brain was telling him how awful this sight was, how his stomach should be churning and he should be throwing up. But his it was like he was shutting it all out, protecting himself from this devastation. His nostrils filled with the smell of blood and sand. So much blood and sand. Edward only found two of his fellow soldiers in one piece, both stone cold dead.

It was almost dark now.

No one was alive.

No one but them. Alone.

Blood and sand.

"Come on men," The Major said. "We need to get back to camp, there's nothing we can do here."


	2. Day 1 in Dune

Chapter 2 – Day one in Dune

"How far are we from the camp?" The Major asked.

"Ten, maybe fifteen kilometres at most, Sir." The sergeant replied. The Sergeant was looking fine despite an obvious limp. But nothing slowed Sergeant McCarthy down. Major Whitlock, on the other hand, was looking pale as death and obviously in pain but doing his best to hide it. Edward wasn't going to say anything, you didn't question the Major, but he made a mental note to keep an eye on him.

"Okay, lets get going," he looked back across the devastation they were walking away from. His face twisted, a mix of emotions running across his face. "We'll send an envoy out to collect the dead." His voice was cold and sharp, but Edward had been around him long enough to know his detachment was a front to hide something deeper. They were his men and they were dead. They had been Edwards fellow soldiers, probably more worthy to survive than he was. Probably better soldiers than he was.

Edward took one last look at the blood and sand before turning away, toward more sand.

For the first time today Edward was glad of his heavy gear as the night grew colder and colder. They made their way back toward camp slowly. The sergeant lead the way, he had planned out this route so he knew they way back. Edward took us the rear of the group. Wincing when the Sergeant limped and the the Major staggered. How had Privet First Class Edward Cullen been the only one to come out unscathed?

"We shouldn't be far now," Sergeant McCarthy shouted back.

There was still enough day light left for them to make it back before night fell. Edward was grateful for that much because the cold could be intense out here. He trudged on, step after step, his muscles aching and his ears still ringing from the explosions. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears and his head still throbbed.

Edward was looking at his boots in the sand when he noticed the Major fall.

"Sir!" He cried out, rushing to his side. The major groaned as he tried to stand and fell back into the sand.

"Fuck Whitlock!" The Sergeant exclaimed as he fell by his side. Edward noticed what had caused his outburst. The Majors jacket was saturated with blood, black in the low light. Sergeant McCarthy ripped open the Majors kit to reveal his upper body. "Jesus Christ Whitlock, what were you thinking?"

Edward could could three deep wounds in his abdomen, still trickling blood, though by the look of him Edward wasn't sure there was much blood left in him. There was still a piece of metal buried deep in his hip.

"Thought I could make it back to camp," the Major spat out. "Didn't think…it was that bad."

"Like hell you didn't, you bastard!" The Major winced as Sergeant McCarthy pulled out the metal in his hip.

"Ow, fuck McCarthy." He yelled. Edward hadn't noticed before, but the Majors torso was carpeted in scars.

"It would have gotten infected. Cullen," he gestured to me. "Get some gauze and bandages from my kit." He kept his hands over the major's wounds, trying to stop the bleeding.

Edward scrambled around his bag for the medical supplies. He couldn't help but keep glancing over at the Major, covered in blood and scars. As soon as he got his hands on the supplies he ripped them open and started dressing the open wounds. The Major winced as Edward pulled the bandages tight.

"Come on," The Major said. "Enough messing around, we need to get back before nightfall."

The Sergeant nodded tightly, "Cullen, help this idiot back to camp."

"I'm good McCarthy," the Major grunted as he tried and failed to rise to his feet.

"No, you're not," Edward said. "Let me help you." Edward couldn't believe he'd just spoken to his commanding officer like that. "Sir." He added hastily.

The Major didn't call him out on it, instead he took the hand Edward was holding out to him and got to his feet with a groan. He put his arm round Edwards shoulder and leaned on him heavily. Even with such exertion Edward could feel the Majors pulse quicken and his breath coming in gasps.

"It's not far," The sergeant said as he got awkwardly to his feet, favouring his injured leg.

Though it was the shortest, the last part of the journey seemed longer than any Edward had made. His muscles ached against the strain of carrying himself, and the Major, forward. Major Whitlock's feet started to drag in the sand and the weight on Edwards shoulder seems to grow the more they walked on.

Night was nearly fully upon them by the time they could see the encampment in the distance. But the closer they got the more uneasy Edward started to feel. Something wasn't right.

When they were close enough to see the camp properly, Sergeant McCarthy stopped dead. Edward nearly walked into the back of him, but stopped just in time and looked over at what the major was seeing.

There was practically nothing left of the camp. The Humvees were gone; they're supply trucks were gone. There was practically nothing left.

"Get down," The Sergeant hissed.

Edward dropped without knowing why. The Major stifled a cry at the jerking movement. He glanced up and noticed what the Sergeant had a second earlier. There were men walking around the ruins of their camp.

"They're waiting for survivors to return," The Major said. "Shit it wasn't just this platoon, they targeted the whole damn company."

"We have to leave," The sergeant said. "They'll kill us if they see us."

The Major grumbled some profanities Edward couldn't quite make out. They were probably similar to the profanities running through his own head. This was not how this day was meant to go.

"What do we do?" he asked.

"We get out of here," Whispered the Major. "Then we figure it out."

They started slowly shuffling away in the sand, until they were so far over the back side of the dune they were shielded completely from view. The they got to their feet, and started walking again. Edward had found some new reserve of energy seeing their enemy walk around their decimated camp.

Now they were out of sight the reality of what had happened started to sink in.

They walked on in silence until they were far enough away to feel safe. Cold night had come on and they decided to set up camp as best they could.

"They're all dead, aren't they?" Edward's mouth was moving and his thoughts were spilling out. "No one's coming to help, we have no where to go. We're alone out here. We're lost in the dunes."

He could feel panic rising in his chest as this realisation started to sink in. His head started moving between the two officers in front of him. How could they look so calm?

"We're not lost," Sergeant McCarthy said calmly. "We just don't know where we should go next."

"Do you have a satellite phone?" The major asked. "Mine was destroyed in the blast."

The Sergeant pulled out a smashed console from his pack, clearly beyond repair.

"Okay," Major Whitlock sighed. "So we can't call for help. Maybe someone at camp got a distress call out."

"But we can't go back to camp, and that's the only place they'll be looking for us." Edward said.

"True," The Major replied. "Don't worry Cullen, we'll get through it."

Edward couldn't see how. Couldn't imagine how these two man were staying so calm. They were lost in the dunes and no one knew they were even alive and they had no where to go.

"But the Sergeants injured and you can barely stand, Sir." Edward said desperately.

"Hey," The sergeant protested. Edward thought he was going to pull him up for being so insolent. He didn't care at this point. But instead all he said was, "I take offence to you calling this scratch an injury." He gestured to his bandaged leg.

This made the Major laugh, though it was a weak one. Edward couldn't bring himself to even smile. He knew the Sergeant was trying to lighten the mood, he always did, but Edwards couldn't see past their current situation.

"Don't worry Cullen, we've been through worse and survived." The Major smiled.

"Well, maybe not worse," said the Sergeant. "But definitely equally as bad."

"Remember last June? When our convoy was attacked?"

"Wow, was that a whole year ago?"

"Is it June already? God, time goes quick around here."

Edward wasn't sure he agreed with the Major on that one.

"You added a few scars to your collection with that one, Whitlock."

"June is becoming an unlucky month," the Majors voice hitched on the final word as he shifted in the sand.

"Let me take a look at that," Edward spoke for the first time. "My fathers an army medic, he taught me the basics." The Major nodded a bit reluctantly and Edward moved over to kneel by his side. Edward mumbled a few sorry's as he peeled away the Majors layers of bloody clothing. The Sergeants face blanched as he took in the Majors wounds and handed Edwards what bandages he had left. What they put on earlier had become sodden with blood. The blood didn't bother Edward the way he thought it might, he had never much liked blood, always cringed away from it, but now he had no choice and he realised that it didn't really bother him at all. Not when it really mattered. His father would have been proud.

"Do you have any sutures?" Edward asked.

"I have some tape?" The Sergeant replied.

Edward nodded, "That's better than nothing."

"Surely its not that bad," The major said through gritted teeth. "It doesn't feel bad enough to resort of McCarthy's boot tape."

The sergeant handed Edward a small roll of silver tape, "Sorry Major, but you've messed yourself us pretty fucking badly this time." The sergeant took Major Whitlock's hand as Edward taped up and redressed the deep wounds in his abdomen and hip. Edward was sure anyone else would have passed out by now, but the Major was still awake and talking.

"McCarthy, check what supplies we have." The Major ordered when Edward was done.

The Sergeant started sorting through all three soldiers packs to pull together what they had. It wasn't until Edward lay his eyes upon the water bottles he realised how dry his mouth was. But he didn't reach forward for one.

"We have enough water for three days if we ration, not much food but we can make do." The sergeant reported back.

"How long do you think we'll be out here?" Edward asked, scared to know the answer.

"There's a village, not far from the camp, there's no military but I think a few friendlies" The Major said. "A day and a half walk…"

"Here," Sergeant McCarthy thrust one of the water bottles into the Majors hands. "Drink something you sound like death. You too Cullen, it's been a long day."

Edward drank as little water as he could to quench his thirst and stop the burning in his throat. He knew having enough water was going to be vital. And the Major had lost so much blood he'd need it more than Edward did.

"Get some sleep, men," the Major said, his voice lulling like he was already drifting off. "It's been a tough day, and we have a few more ahead of us."

Edward shifted his rucksack under his head to use as the most uncomfortable pillow he'd ever known. He curled up in the sand against the cold. Edward tried to think about anything other than his current situation. He tried to think of his bed back home in Washington, tried to imagine that in the morning we would wake up to the smell of his mothers cooking and go to school. Maybe he would even have biology class the next day, and see _her_ again. Her face swam in his minds eyes as he drifted into darkness.

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 **Authors note: So here's the second instalment! Please please please review and leave your thoughts!**

 **Next chapter - A look into Edwards Past**


	3. The Father

**Authors notes: Thanks to everyone taking the time to read! Would love to hear your thought! Reviews are love!**

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Chapter 3 – The Father

Edward - 2 years ago

After only three weeks in this place Edward was sure it was right. In all the cities all over the world he had lived in, this small town seemed to fit. He felt at home here, among the trees with the rain falling in his face.

The arrival of the Cullen family seemed to have caused quite a stir. Who were these new comers who bought the big white house? Edward could practically hear them all thinking. From what Edward had been able to discern there hadn't been an event this big in the town since the police chief's daughter moved home a few months ago. These two events happening in such quick succession seemed to have blown the minds of the natives.

He could imagine that whatever stories they were making up in their heads about the arrival of the Cullen's was far more exciting than the reality. His father had retired from a long career as an army medic and his mother wanted a new project to work on. So they moved to a small town and bought an old house. The story couldn't be more boring if Edward had tried to make it so.

He was infinity glad that he enjoyed living in the place his parents had chosen to settle down. Well…infinitely glad and heartbroken in equal measure. If he had hated where they lived it would have made it easier to pack up and go. As it stood Edward was struggling with the prospect of leaving. Especially after having biology class last period.

Biology class, well that brought Edward thoughts onto something else that made him infinitely glad and heartbroken. Unlike his family's arrival to the town, Edward could see why the presence of the police chief had caused such a stir. From the first time Edward laid eyes on her he was enchanted. Her hair wafting round her pale face, that awkward smile that made him giddy. He had barely spoken a complete sentence to her in the week he'd been at the school, to nervous and awkward to form competent thought when she was near. She must think he was completely useless. But still day after day he pined for her in the hope that one day he would get it together and ask her out.

"Mom, I'm home," Edward called out. The house was still mostly empty but from some essential furniture, which included, of course, his piano. His voice echoed against the bare walls. He glanced at his piano, sitting across the wide open landing, sun from the back windows making it gleam.

There was no reply from his mother, probably in some far off room testing pain samples. Edward sat down at the piano and let his fingers rest on the familiar ivory keys for a moment before they started moving. Music burst out as string after string pulled as his fingers came down, strong and sure. It was the only time in his life he felt completely at ease, in total control. Maybe the only place he'd ever been truly happy? Unless the police chief's daughter would go out with him, he was more than sure that would make him happy as any piano.

"Ah Edward, you're home!" It was his fathers voice and not his mothers that broke him out of his trance.

"Hi Dad," Edward stopped playing immediately. It wasn't that his father didn't like the piano, it's just he thought there were better things his son could be doing in his spare him.

"Oh, don't stop on my account! It's good to have a hobby! Besides, all the top medical schools like things like that, shows you've got talent!" Edward began to shake his head and his father sighed. "Yes I know; you don't want to be a doctor! But keeping you're hands busy will be good for you in army as well. Always helps to have good dexterity! The best man with a gun I ever encountered was a dream on the fiddle, used to play for us in the barracks."

Edward didn't bother correcting his father. For as long as he'd been alive there were only two options his father viewed as acceptable career paths; medicine or the army. Preferably both. And preferably in that order. Edward had made it very clear medicine wasn't for him, but he hadn't quite worked up the courage to telling his father he despised the idea of the army as well. Deep down he knew, in a year's time when he turned 18, he would enlist. He didn't have to make a career out of it but if he did a few tours it would keep his father happy, and while his father would be disappointed he didn't make it work he would let Edward pursue what he wanted to, knowing he had at least tried.

"Sure, Dad," was all he said.

"Sweetie, how was school?" his mom's warm voice replaced the echo's of fathers words.

"Good," I smiled.

"Making friends?" She asked.

"Yeah, kind of." He said. In truth, Edward wasn't very good at making friends. He'd never really had to before, they always moved around so much with the military that he didn't see much point. At the moment he was still an oddity at school, a new shiny thing. So he had plenty of people asking him to join them for lunch, but he thought he might wait a few weeks before getting attached to any of them.

"That's great sweetheart," She beamed down at him.

Edward had always known his mother wanted a big family, always imagined herself with lots of mouths to feed. Instead all she had was him. That must have been a disappointment for her, though she never showed it. She was a wonderful woman, Esme Cullen.

As the evening wore on the three of them sat down to some home cooked dinner. Nothing matched his mothers home cooking, it was one of those constants in Edwards life, he knew no matter what happened in a day he would come home to his mothers cooking and everything would be okay.

After dinner was cleaned up he played chess with his father and eventually retired to his bed room to finished some homework and think about his biology lab partner some more. So that he would be prepared for when he eventually worked up the nerve to talk to her about something more substantial than mitosis.

He was half way through a question on the transport system of plants when a soft knock at his door made his pen skid across the paper.

"Yeah?" He called.

The loving face and soft caramel hair of his mother appeared from behind his door. "Can I come in?"

"Of course, I'm just trying to do homework." I sighed. "But I was never much use at biology."

"Honey, you get straight A's," she protested. I just mumbled something about that not mattering as she sat down on the edge of my bed.

"How's the decorating going?" I asked.

"We'll get there, there's quite a lot of work to be done before we get into the fine details. No one has lived here for a long time, it's somewhat fallen into disrepair."

"These rooms are fine," I shrugged.

"Yes, but the damp has gotten into the walls of the top floor and it's not safe." She frowned.

"Is that why I'm not allowed up there? I thought maybe you and Dad were running a meth lab up there." I smiled.

"Edward, how absurd!" She laughed. "Can you imagine your father doing anything so scandalous."

Edward laughed along with her. His parents had a very proper way of speaking, probably from their years consorting among military royalty. His father still had an accent from his time living in England as a young boy. His Mom was all up-state New York, but she'd lived all over the world. That's how his parents had met, both children of military fathers traveling around the world together, never really calling anywhere home. Edward hoped, maybe, he would find someone to love him in the first place he had ever called home. If only he could ask her out.

"I wanted to talk to you about your father actually," She looked away from Edward, eyes darting around the floor. It was difficult for her to go behind his fathers back. "I over heard your conversation earlier. I mean, I heard what he said to you about the army."

"Uh-hu." Edward wasn't quite sure what she was going to say, so though an 'uh-hu' would do for now.

"I just want you to know, that your father has never known anything but being an army medic. It's what his father was and it's all he's ever wanted for himself. He's just so close to it, you have to understand, he doesn't see that there are other options." She took a deep breath and her hands fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. Edward didn't say anything, he could tell she knew what she had to say and she thought it better to just let her say it. "It's like when you're doing a crossword and you can't figure out the last clue, but someone else comes along and gets it immediately. Because the answer was easy, you were just to close to see it. Am I making sense?"

I nodded.

"You know; your father will always love you no matter what you choose to do with your life. You have so many options Edward; he just doesn't see that. He doesn't see why anyone would want to do anything but join the army for that matter."

"The thing is," Edward said. "I don't what else I would do. I don't really have that many options myself."

"Oh but you do," Esme's voice was suddenly filled with such energy and confidence. "You're so clever Edward you could go to collage and do anything you set your mind to. You're so wonderful on the piano, if you wanted to you could go to Julliard. Honey you're so talented."

Edward shrugged. He didn't really know what to say.

"And your father knows that too, though he might not tell you often enough." She said softly.

"Thanks mom."

XXX

Lying in bed that night he kept turning the conversation over in his head. He knew his mother would always love him, he just wasn't so sure about his father. He would be 17 in a few days, this time next year he would be 18. And when he was 18 he would enlist. He'd leave this rainy place that was starting to feel like home. He would leave this house just as his mom got it up and running. And he would leave the police chiefs daughter, whether he'd managed to ask her out by then or not.


	4. Day 4 in Dune

Chapter 4 – Day 4 in Dune

On their second day in the Dunes, they sound nothing but more sand. Edward and Sergeant McCarthy took turns helping the Major, though Edward took the longer shifts since he wasn't injured. Despite his protests that he could manage on his own they all knew that wasn't true. Edward was impressed he was still standing in any capacity.

That night they slept in the cold sand for a second time. And for a second time, Edward tried to imagine he was anywhere else.

On the morning of the third day, things were looking up. The Major awoke first and shouted for the other two to stop being such lay-abouts.

"I'm sure we're only half a days walk at most," he grunted getting to his feet. "You know I think this things healing!"

Edward and the Sergeant shared a sceptical look, but he was standing on his own and looking a shade less pale. He managed to walk without a shoulder under his arm for a while, but after the third time he fell to his knees panting the Sergeant put an arm round his waist and helped him onward without a word.

As the day wore on there was still no sight of any village. Their water supply had dwindled to a few drips and there had been no food since yesterday evening. It was hard to tell what was causing Edward the most hurt, the burning in his lungs? The ache in his stomach? His dry cracked lips? The fear that they would never make it out of the Dunes?

When night fell, the Sergeant admitted they weren't going to find the village and they should make camp. Any improvement the major had made that morning had been reversed and then some. There were no clean bandages left, the ones covering his wounds were soaked through and hardened with blood. It was hard to tell if the bleeding had stopped, given that there was so much of it.

That night no one spoke, Edward suspected his fears had started to manifest in the officers. Two nights he had dreamed of another place and fell asleep. But this night, Edward wept.

"Day four in the Dune!" The sergeants booming voice roused Edward from a haunted sleep. "June 15th, got to try and keep track of time out here or you'll loose it."

"Yes, Sir," Edward mumbled into his rucksack.

"Look alive, Cullen," He said, shaking Edwards shoulders. It astounded Edward that the Sergeant still had that kind of energy left.

As Edward got to his feet he found his legs were shaking, he stood slowly, knowing he'd be dizzy if he stood too quickly. His head still swam as he got to full height, but it passed quickly. "Any water left, Sir?" He asked.

"A few drips, here," He through the canister over to Edward. "You have the last of it, you look like you need it."

"No, I can't I…"

"Cullen, drink the water, that's an order. You've had the least of our meagre supplies, don't think I hadn't noticed." Edward nodded in acknowledgement and sucked down their last few drips of water gratefully.

After draining the water Edward knelt down by the Major. "Major Whitlock, we have to get moving." Edward gripped his shoulder and shook him gently, but the soldier didn't stir. "Major!" He shouted into his ear. Edward was a second away from checking for a pulse when the Majors eyes fluttered open.

The Major smirked at the look of obvious relief on Edwards face, "I'm not dead yet Cullen."

"Yes, Sir."

"You've got more lives than a cat, Whitlock." The sergeant shouted as he packed up supplies and stood, ready to move forward.

" _Major_ Whitlock," The Major said through clenched teeth as he let Edward help him stand. As Edward pulled the Majors arm over his shoulder he noticed for the first time the Majors whole body was shaking. Edward pretended not to notice, but held on a little tighter, trying to steady him. It was a miracle he had managed to last this long, though Edward was starting to get seriously concerned about how much further he could make it.

So they kept moving forward, the sergeant was more than sure they would reach something soon. But with every step Edward's muscles ached more, his feet dragged in the sand, his empty stomach cramped in pain, his throat burned. He felt like he was never going to get out of this place, these Dunes.

"We used to call it Dune," the sergeant said. The sun had risen in the sky since they set off, a few hours of walking and it had already felt like days. "All of this place, before we shipped out. 'How many days in Dune?' we used to say. It was our way of betting, since we had nothing to bet with but time. How many days were you willing to spend alone in Dune? The biggest I ever went was five. I couldn't imagine spending more than five days alone in this place. 'I bet you three days in Dune you can't dunk that ball!' It was just a concept back then. It didn't mean anything."

"I remember," came the Majors dry voice by Edwards shoulder. His breath was coming quickly and Edward could feel the force of his heart. How much blood had he lost to the sand?

"Oh yeah?" Said the Sergeant. He looked away from his small compass over to us and started moving beside me. "I'll take him," the sergeant nodded to me as he slipped his arm round the Majors back. It was a relief to have the extra weight removed from his shoulders and Edwards stretched out to ease the tension. "How many days would you bet, Major?"

The Major smiled ruefully, "I never did, thought it was ridiculous."

The Sergeant started laughing. It wasn't the loud boisterous laugh Edward had gotten used to, it was quiet and subdued so as not to waste any energy. But it was still a laugh with enough heart to make Edward feel a little better.

But when the laughing stopped, there was nothing but sand. Sand and sun as far as Edwards could see. One foot in front of the other not bringing him any closer to anything, except more sand of course. He was staring to think he would never again see anything but sand. He would fall asleep in sand and wake up in sand, and one night soon he wouldn't wake up at all. He wished he could see his girl just one last time.

Just as the thought struck his mind Edward saw something in the distance, some _one._ He squinted in the sun to make out their face. Brown hair was blowing lightly in the sand winds, her brown eyes watched him make his way towards her, she raised her hand and ushered him forward.

"She's here!" Edward burst out. He started walking faster, too weak to run. But she wasn't getting any closer. Why was she moving away from him? He tripped in his haste, feeling course granules in his mouth as his face collided with the sand.

"Cullen! CULLEN!"

Edward scrambled to his feet and searched for her again. "Where did you go? Come back!" He cried. But she was gone. Where she stood was just more sand. He felt and hand tug his sharply, was it her? Had she come to him? But when he turned, it was the Sergeants face he found staring back at him.

"Are you okay, Privet?" He asked.

"She was right there, I saw her." Edward scrambled.

"I think the heats getting to your head Cullen." He sighed. "We should have found something by now."

At the Sergeants words, Edward realised that what he was seeing wasn't real. Of course it wasn't, why would she be out here? He wouldn't want her to be out in this hell. She was safe in Forks. Safe and waiting for him. But it had been so nice to think, just for a second, that he could hold her.

The sergeant looked at him, sympathy and understanding in his eyes. "We'll get you home to her Cullen, trust me. I'll be damned if I let this place take us. We have too much to live for."

"McCarthy," The Majors rough voice called out. "Am I…seeing things too…" His voice came in broken gasps as he tried to catch his breath. "Or is that…real?"

The Sergeant look worried for a second, probably thinking he was the only sane one left. Until he looked in the direction the Major was pointing. And Edward saw it too, far far in the distance.

A village.


	5. The Desk Job

Chapter 5 – The Desk Job

If there was anything in this world more horrific than this, Emmett couldn't think of it. How had he ended up here? Working in a cubicle taking calls and putting in order forms for school supplies? This was not a life anyone thought they would have.

His fingers drummed against the key board as he typed up a report for his boss about the most frequently ordered notebooks. Who gave a flying fuck?

This wasn't the life Emmett was supposed to have. But when he lost his job on the local collage football coating team, he had to take anything that was offered. Not many people wanted to take on a guy fired for being violent against his former boss. Context was everything, but no one wanted to heat the context. No one cared he hit his boss become his boss tried to rape his fiancé, and would have done if Emmett hadn't punched him in the face. They only cared he hit his boss. No one bothered to ask if his boss was a vile repugnant creature who deserved far worse than a broken nose. Fucking Royce King.

But it was what it was, and if Emmett wanted to eat he had to work. And this job was all that was left. He spent his days putting in order forms and chelating data so the company could put together presentations with statistics that no one gave a fuck about. Emmett was sure his new boss just gave him things to do to torture him. As if having this job wasn't torture enough. He counted the minutes until 5pm when he could leave this desk behind for another 16 hours. Because when he went home he had a beautiful blond woman waiting for him. His job might be hell on earth, but the woman he was lucky enough to call his fiancé was heaven.

When the clock hit five Emmett had already packed his bag, he slung it over his broad shoulder, grabbed his jacket and headed straight for the door. Do not pass go, do not collet $200. He could see his boss trying to get his attention, he pretended he didn't and moved on.

He even got the bus home. That's how awful his life had become. A desk job and a bus pass to get him there. As the bus rattled along the bumpy Arizona streets Emmett couldn't bring himself to do anything but stare out the window as the tires chucked up dust.

How much longer could he survive living this hell? How much longer could he smile at his future wife and tell her he didn't mind working this repugnant job so she could go to school? He wanted her to be able to do anything she wanted, she deserved that. But every day he sat in the cubicle a little bit of his soul was chipped away. It was only a matter of time before there was nothing left.

Rosalie had study group tonight, so when he got home Emmett dumped his suit on the floor, changed into some shorts and went running. It was nice to get out and clear his head for a while. He liked physical exercise. In high school Emmett had been star running back on the football team. Just not star enough to get a scholarship and there was no way his single mom could afford to send him to collage. So he did the next best thing and got a job as an assistant coach at a collage.

It was perfect. He got to spend his days outside with a football and his nights watching game tapes and planning for the next match. He was a more hands on coach than most of them. Liked to get in on the action, if there was one thing he couldn't stand it was sitting on the side-line's while everyone else did the work. The guys on the team treated him like a team mate and respected him like a coach. Life was so good. Until that night Rosalie came to pick him up late and he found her in the parking lot, pinned against a truck by Royce King.

Emmett knew how lucky he was to have his dream job and his dream girl. He just didn't know how awful it would be when one of them was taken away. Royce King was royalty in this part of the world, the King name lived up to his lineage. He made sure Emmett never worked in the sport again.

His running route took him past the collage. The boys were out training, like they were every night. None of them noticed as Emmett ran past, he wouldn't have wanted them to. The burn in his lungs and the ache in his muscles as he ran on made him feel alive. Open air and physical work was what Emmett was build for, not to sit behind a desk putting in paper orders.

He circled home. At least he had that, a home. A place he loved to be and a woman he loved to be with. Not everyone in the office could say the same. The door to his house was unlocked when he got back. It was a small house they rented. One bedroom, one bathroom and a kitchen/living room. But it was what they could afford on his salary and Rosalie's part time job at Starbucks. And it was theirs, just theirs. Emmett loved that.

"Emmett!" A happy voice greeted him. "You won't believe what happened today!"

"What?" Emmett asked, kicking off his trainers at the door.

"They offered me the teaching assistant job!" She beamed. She was practically jumping with excitement.

"Aw babe, that's amazing! Congratulations!"

Rosalie stepped over and trust her lips onto his.

"I'm all sweaty babe." Emmett laughed.

"I don't care." Rosalie whispered as she pressed her body up against him. "We need to celebrate; we can shower later."

Emmett did not voice his agreement, just wrapped his arms around his glorious fiancé and lead her to the bedroom.

That evening they ate and watched television and Emmett was happy, he told himself he was happy. He had his home and his health and the love of his life. But if Emmett were to be honest with himself, really honest, he would admit that he couldn't go on like this much longer.

On the bus into the paper company the next morning Emmett stared out the window at the passing cars. They were all driving in the opposite direction of the paper company, no matter where they were going Emmett envied them for this.

A billboard caught his eye, one he had seen on nearly every journey to work, but he had never looked at it until this particular morning. In big bold letters the words "Army Strong" stood out against a background of saluting soldiers. They were covered in mud but all with a look of powerful determination in their eyes. Every single one of them looked proud to be standing there. Emmett was not proud of the work he did, but he did remember what it felt like to wake up every morning and know you were doing something good, something right. There wasn't a moment he didn't long to have that feeling again.

As the day wore on and Emmett took phone call after phone call in a cubical barely bigger than a play pen, he'd never felt so unhappy. The more he worked the more that billboard played on his mind. He was so young, and the thought that he would do _this_ for the rest of his life made him feel sick.

He couldn't get those two words out of his head. It wouldn't really sink in until a few weeks later, but when five o'clock struck that day and Emmett picked up his coat, he knew this would not be his life for much longer.

He knew he was meant for something bigger.

Army strong.


	6. Day 5 in Dune

Chapter 6 – Day 5 in Dune

It wasn't until nightfall they decided to approach the village and see what they could fine. In the mean time they discussed how to proceed.

"Cullen and I will go, you stay here." The sergeant said to Major Whitlock.

"I think that much was obvious," he grumbled. "That's not the village we were trying to get to. We must have gotten turned around somewhere. I have no idea where we are."

That statement didn't inspire much confidence in Edward, to him the Major was like an all knowing force. Someone you could constantly rely on to know what was going on and what to do about it. Even during this horrific journey, and injured, he had kept an air of authority. Edward tried not to show his anxiety that swirled in his stomach at the thought that even the Major didn't know what was going on.

"There's no friendly's here." The Sergeant stated. He had scouted out the place earlier with our only pair of binoculars. Edward had quietly thanked anyone that might be listening in this God forsaken place that they hadn't gotten rid of the binoculars like they had dumped other surplus items. "We'll go in as quick as possible, grab what we can and get out."

"Don't be brave in there, if anyone see's you get out and get hidden." The Major said looking Edward in the eye. His voice seemed to have gained some strength since finding the village. "When you're back we'll try and follow the tracks leading out of the village, they might take us someone more welcoming."

Edward wasn't too confident about finding anything better but at least it was a better option that wandering around aimlessly with no end in sight.

"Is it dark enough to go yet?" Edward asked.

"No," Said Sergeant McCarthy. "We should wait a while until most of them are sleeping. Is your weapon functional, Cullen?"

Edward slung round his heavy riffle. They had discussed getting rid of nearly every possible ounce of excess weight, but they had never considered relinquishing their weapons. There were points Edward was tempted to suggest it but he knew the soldiers would never allow it. Edward slid the components of his rifle apart as deftly as he could and checked that inside compartments.

"Looks like it should, Sergeant." He replied.

"Do no open fire unless your life is in immediate threat," The Major warned, his times his eyes piercing the Sergeant. "You'll wake the whole village and then you have no chance."

"How many covert missions have we completed together Major? Don't you trust me?" The Sergeants voice held a rueful smile.

"You've never done one without me, McCarthy. Your idea of subtlety is akin to an atomic explosion." He turned to me. "Keep him quiet, Cullen, God knows you'll need to."

The sergeant huffed and shuffled over to a better vantage point to scout out the village.

As the Sergeants attention was turned Major Whitlock tuned to Edward and spoke in a low voice. "Have you ever done anything like this before, Private?"

Edward shook his head. He honestly didn't trust his voice to not betray how nervous he was. He was supposed to be a soldier, had enlisted nearly a year ago now. He knew he wasn't cut out for this, he just thought maybe he would man up and learn how to deal with it. He was still waiting for that to happen. He felt like he was still that little boy playing dress up in his daddy's uniform.

"You're shit scared right now, and you should be. But you're going to be okay. You're Privet First Class Edward Cullen and you are a damn fine soldier. Don't forget it."

Edward wasn't sure what to say. He had always thought the Majors feelings toward him were similar to his fathers, that he wasn't terrible but wasn't up to much either. "Thank you, Sir." He eventually said.

"And have Sergeant McCarthy's back, 'cause you can be damn certain he'll have yours."

"Of course, sir." It was the one thing Edward had said in this whole ordeal he was confident about saying. Of course he would have the Sergeants back, soldiers looked out for one another. So did friends.

Silence dragged on until Edward looked up as the Sergeants movements caught my eye. "Ready to go?" he asked.

So this was it?

"The streets are empty and I can't see any lights on," Said the Sergeant, reading Edwards questioning expression.

"Lets do it," Edward said. His voice somehow managed to show a confidence he wasn't quite feeling, or maybe he was, after the Majors short speech. He certainly felt more capable, or maybe that was just the adrenaline.

The Sergeant nodded once and lead the way forward, keeping low. Rifle in hand and empty rucksack on his back, Edward followed.

On their training exercise Edwards rucksack had been filled to the brim with equipment, this had since been stripped down to the bare minimum so they weren't carrying extra weight. It was hard enough dragging your feet in the blinding sun with no food and no water without carrying around half a ton of night vision head gear. However, at this moment in time Edward did wish they hadn't been quite so thorough in their unpacking. In this total darkness he could barely see the contours of the dunes and the village was no more than a slightly darker splodge among the blackness.

As they approached, the shapes of the buildings started to become clearer.

"You see that third building on the right, the big one with the annex to the left?" The Sergeant said, his voice so low Edwards could hardly hear his words.

"Yes."

"I think it's a storage shed, we go there first." He ordered.

"Yes, sir." Edward replied.

A little further on, in the silence of the night, Edward could hear the Sergeants breath, more shallow and rapid than normal. "Sergeant, are you alright?" Edward asked, keeping his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, Cullen. Stay focused, we need to get in out without being noticed." He snapped.

"But, Sergeant…"

"And _quietly,_ Cullen." He cut Edward off.

Edward, with some new found courage, or perhaps it was just a new familiarity with the soldier, made a mental note to bring up the subject again after the mission. He pushed down his worry that something could be wrong for the moment, they had a more immanent problem to deal with.

For the first time if five days, thought it felt a lifetime, Edwards foot hit ground more solid than loose sand. The village was silent but for the soldiers' soft footfalls on the packed earth. There was an old pad-lock on the shed door which the Sergeant jarred open with little difficulty. They slipped inside and shut the wooden door softly behind then, hopefully if anyone was looking they would not notice the broken pad-lock.

All apprehension had disappeared from Edwards mind, as if it had never been there in the first place. His mind was so focused on the task at hand and for the first time in a year, he felt like he was made for this. His muscles were taught, ready to strike at any sign trouble. But he felt strangely relaxed. Perhaps it was just a result of doing something productive for the first time in days. Maybe it was finally thinking there might be a way to survive being abandoned and hunted in the Dunes. Maybe he was at last becoming a soldier. What ever the reason, he was sure his father would have finally been proud of him.

The storage shed was filled with wooden boxes with no markings. Before looking to establish their contents both soldiers did a quick sweep of the shed. There was no sign of any movement but theirs. There was a broken door on the far wall, presumably leading to the annex they had seen form the outside.

Once Sergeant McCarthy was satisfied the place was clear he gestured for Edward to start opening the crates. Edward had never wish to see a box full for food so much in his life. The adrenaline no doubt coursing through his system had eliminated his hunger, but a dull ache in his abdomen told him he had not imagined the five days he had spent with little more than a protein bar. The lid of the crates were nailed on, Edward pried it open carefully with butt in his rifle. As soon as the lid popped off the Sergeant finally light his small torch to look inside.

What they saw was not food.

The crate was lined with straw, straw that was cushioning sleek black explosive devices.

Edward felt an acute nausea as he stared at the devices.

"Shit," The Sergeant muttered. "All these crates are identical." Edward looked around in the dim light. The crates were piled high and deep, there were hundreds of them. Hundreds of boxes of explosives that would one day kill American soldieries. Men like the men in his platoon, just some boys who wanted to defend their country who would loose their lives. There was nothing he could do but leave the crates where they stood. Close the box and walk away.

But the thoughts soon passed from his mind as he realised what the Sergeant was really trying to say. If all these crates were identical, none of them contained food.

"The Annex," Edward said, as the rickety looking door on the opposite wall caught his eye. The Sergeant nodded and started moving slowly toward it. He had extinguished the light once more but Edwards eyes had already adjusted to the darkness.

The door creaked as the Sergeant pushed it open, but it did not fall off it's hinges, which is what Edward had suspected might happen given its condition. Edward didn't have time to take in any of his new surroundings before his eyes were drawn to something that made his heart leap. Five large plastic water containers filled with clear liquid were bunched together by the door. It was far too much for them to carry, but what they filled their empty containers with was enough water to see them through the next few days if they were careful with it.

When Edward finally looked across at the rest of the room he was confused by what he saw. There was a white refrigerator buzzing in the corner and a square table surrounded by four chairs. There were worktops surrounding the walls strewn with dishes and utensils.

This was not a storage annex; this was a kitchen. This was someone's home attached to an armoury.

Edward barely processed the sight when light flooded the room. More light than the Sergeants small torch would offer. In a split second the solders had their rifles trained on the dark figure standing in the archway with their finger on a light switch.

It was a girl, no more then sixteen. She didn't flinch at the sight of two solders with guns in her kitchen. Her body tensed and her eyes widened. She lifted her palmed up to show she was carrying nothing and nodded to the fridge. Neither solider moved, but kept their gun on her as she moved across the room.

She hesitated as she reached the old refrigerator. She pointed at Edwards and then pointed at the fridge. Was she asked if they wanted food? Edward could hardly believe a girl so young would be so unfazed by two enemy soldiers pointing guns at her in her own kitchen in the middle of the night.

Edward gave a minute nod and girl proceeded. The Sergeant shifted to look inside the refrigerator, checking for weapons no doubt. Why anyone would keep their weapons in their refrigerator Edward was unsure, but nothing made any sense in war.

The girl wrapped up what looked like flat bread and dumplings into a bundle and sat them on the table. She gestured for Edward to collect them. Edward glanced at the Sergeant who nodded before he proceeded. He placed the food in his pack as quickly as he could and backed away.

Once the food was stowed away the girl pointed to the door through which they had entered, her face stern. The solders started to slowly back away into the weapons shed. Just as Edward was about to close the door and disappear into the darkness he paused and looked at the young girl. "Thank you," he said softly.

The girl nodded and Edward slipped out of sight.

On their journey back they were even more carful than on the way in. Cautious in case the girl had alerted someone to their presence.

It would appear, she did not.

They made it out of the village and back into the seclusion of the Dunes without seeing another soul. But after an evening of following in the Sergeants footsteps he was convinced his limp had become far more pronounced. The spark of worry Edward had pushed down earlier had sprung up anew.

The Major was asleep when they reached him. "Whitlock?" Sergeant McCarthy said quietly, shaking the Major lightly. Heavy lidded eyes fluttered open unwillingly at the agitation.

"We have food and water, Sir." Edward said. He pulled a full water container from his pack and held it out to the Major. "Drink." He insisted. The Major tried to grasp the bottle, but whether by tiredness from sleep or weakness from blood loss, he couldn't quite find the strength or co-ordination to grip the bottle.

"Here," said the Sergeant, holding his own bottle to the Majors lips.

Edwards took a few generous swigs of his own bottle. As soon at the liquid hit his dry mouth all he wanted as to drain the contents. But they only have six full bottles between them and no telling out long it might have to last them. Grudgingly Edward closed the canister and hid it back in his rucksack.

"Lets have some food," The Sergeant said. "But then we have to go, they're going to know we've been there in the morning and don't want to be close enough they could stumble upon us in our sleep."

The Major mumbled his agreement. Edward was still too alert from the mission to consider sleep yet anyway, though he was sure in an hour's time the exhaustion would take over once more. Edward and Sergeant McCarthy ate their fair ration of flatbread, the Major only took a small bite and frowned when offered more. He was ghastly pale in the moonlight, and the Sergeant was not looking his best either.

Edward pulled the Major to his feet with a groan after they had decided it was time to move on. He was practically taking his whole weight now. The Sergeant staggered in front as he lead the way, Edward could see a sheen of sweat on his face despite the cold night.

It scared Edward more than he wanted to admit that he might end up the one to make sure they made it out of here alive. But if it came to that, he thought maybe, just maybe, he _was_ capable.

* * *

 **Please please leave your thoughts! I love to hear what you guys think of the story!**


	7. The Thief

Chapter 7 – The Thief

 **6 years ago**

Jasper Hale ran like the hounds of hell were chasing him, even though it was only the fat mall security guard. He couldn't afford to get caught again, not financially or other wise.

The stolen video games hidden in the lining of his jacket smacked against his chest as he ran.

Jasper didn't play video games, didn't even own a games console or TV for that matter, but he sold them so he had money to pay for food. Stealing video games and selling them cheap was easier than stealing money, or stealing food directly for that matter. It has hard to shove dinner for two in the lining of your jacket.

Jaspers lungs were burning as his feet pounded against the pavement. He knew the rent-a-cop had given up a few blocks back but he couldn't be too careful. If he got caught again they would take away the games and he wouldn't be able to feed himself or his mother. And if they arrested him again they would send him back to foster care. He wasn't going back into the system; it wasn't an option. He would be sixteen soon and after that social services wouldn't want to 'protect' him anymore, he just had to be careful for a few more weeks.

He nearly tripped as he leapt down the stairs to the underground station two at a time. He slipped through the barrier behind some guy in a grey suit and shifted through the crowd to the edge of the platform. He folded his arms tight around across his chest, feeling the sharp corners of the plastic bite into his skin. When the train pulled in he took a seat quickly and kept his eyes low.

Despite he had been stealing for years to keep him and his mom afloat he always felt terribly guilty. He avoided eye contact with anyone because all he saw was judgment in their eyes. They knew what the scrappy 15-year-old boy had hidden in the folds of his over-sized jacket.

So he kept his eyes down and hidden from judgment while the old train rumbled onwards, taking him closer to the house he shared with his mother. The closer he got to his stop the more his stomach twisted. It was always the same way when he knew he was headed for home. He never knew what he would find. Sometimes mom would welcome him back and ask how school was, if that happened he made up some lie and pretended his mother believed him, pretended she cared. More often she would be passed out on the living room sofa with a dirty needle on the floor. It was harder to pretend his mother wasn't a crack whore when that happened. Occasionally there would be a surprise, like his mother's boyfriend would be there and decide Jasper was an attractive punching bag. The last time social services had put him into foster care he had three broken ribs.

He had been in and out of foster homes his whole live, eventually his mother would always get clean and prove her self good enough to get Jasper back. It never lasted long. Jasper had been putting food on the table since his dad died eight years ago. Most kids his age were worrying about making friends at elementary school and he was starting his own stolen video games business to pay for food. All his mother's money went to the local dealer down the street. They had moved several times to escape the debt his mother had built up with men you did not want to owe. They had even had to change their last name back to his mothers so they wouldn't find them.

As the train stopped at his station Jasper stepped off quickly, took a stolen phone from his pocket and phoned his latest customer, "I have them, meet me at the corner." He said simply before hanging up. Peter would know what he meant, he had always been Jaspers best customer. And probably the closest thing to a friend he had ever had. But they weren't really friends.

He knew that maybe foster care was the best place for him. This was not a normal life for a fifteen-year-old. But if he wasn't there, no one would look after his mother. She wasn't all bad, she just lost it when her husband died. Jasper hoped someday, if he tried hard enough, he could help her find it again.

"Jasper!" Peter waved as Jasper turned the corner. "Hey man, so you got it?"

Jasper nodded, pulling out three new x-box games from his coat. "Sorry it took so long, the new security guard is a menace, I had to wait till fat Jim was back."

Peters eyes light up as he took the games into his hands. Jasper envied him that happiness, to be so satisfied with something as stupid as a game, Jasper would have given anything for that. He often wondered what it would have been like if his Dad hadn't died, would it all have turned out the same? Somehow he didn't think so. His mothers never talked about his Dad, but Jasper had vivid memories of him returned home exhausted in dirty overalls picking him up and spinning him round in the air. That kind of man didn't watch as the woman he loved become a drug addict.

"Jazz you're the best!" Peter exclaimed as he slipped thirty dollars into Jaspers waiting palm. "Wanna come over and play?"

Peter's parents weren't well off, but they were kind people and what they had they had to share. But if Jasper didn't go home his mother probably wouldn't eat.

"Na, I'm good, I'll see you around." Jasper said quickly and turned away.

He heard Peter call after him, he pretended he didn't and kept going. It was hard to reject an offer to spend the night in a happy household twice. Besides Jasper had to get to his evening job at the community boxing gym. Mr Jenks that ran the place paid him under the table and even let him use the facilities after it was closed for the night. He was a good guy, and his son provided the fake ID service for the area. Sometimes after his mother thought he had gone to bed he would sneak out there, whenever he needed a punching bag, he figured it was easier to use an actual punching bag for the purpose. He wished his moms boyfriend would do the same.

Fist he had to get back home to get food ready. He picked up something up along the way he could cook in the microwave, their cooker was broken, before he turned onto his street. As soon as his house came into view the knot in his stomach was pulled tighter.

Please let her ask me how school was today, he thought to himself.

The front door wasn't locked, it never was, and he slipped inside to a silent house. Silence meant his Moms boyfriend wasn't here, Jasper was thankful for that, but it also meant that his mother probably wasn't conscious.

"Mom?" Jasper called out. His voice echoed against the bare walls, but there was no answer. "Mom?" he called again, hoping she just hadn't heard him.

Jasper avoided the front room and went straight for the kitchen. He took his time unpacking the food he had picked up, put two boxes in the microwave and hit start. When the microwave started humming he climbed up onto the worktop and felt on top of the cupboard for the small box he knew would be there. A small box that was out of reach and out of sight. He took out his 20 remaining dollars and placed it inside the tin box. He had saved up nearly three hundred dollars. He didn't know what it was for yet, but he knew one day he would need this money.

When he put the 20 dollars inside, he had no idea that day would be today.

Jasper took a deep breath before he opened the door leading to the front room. When he stepped inside a familiar sight met him. He had been wrong about his mother's boyfriend being here. Both of them were passed out on the floor, his mother still had a needle sticking out the crook of her arm.

It made Jasper sad that this sight no longer affected him.

He knelt down beside his mother and started shaking her. "Mom wake up; you have to eat." She didn't respond to him at first, which wasn't too out of the ordinary. "Mom, come on!" He raised his voice. His mothers body felt limp under his grip suddenly. "MOM!" But she wasn't responding. "MARIA, WAKE UP!" Jaspers hands started shaking as her body shook lifelessly under his grasp and he realised her chest was not moving. She wasn't breathing.

His fingers scrambled to feel a pulse in her neck, he dug his fingers deeper and deeper into her pale flesh but could feel nothing.

How long had she been lying on the floor dead?

Jasper fumbled with numb fingers for the phone in his pocked and dialled 911.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"My mom overdosed, she's dead."

"An ambulance is on it's way, stay on the line please. Is she breathing?"

"No."

"Put your fingers on her neck and feel…"

"She doesn't have a pulse."

The woman's voice on the end of phone continued speaking even as the phone fell from Jaspers grip and clattered against the hard floor.

Jasper stood and backed away, staring at the dead body of his mother. Pale skin, dark eyes and a heroin needle stuck in her arm. He tore himself away from the sigh, scrambled around the kitchen and emptied his box of meagre savings.

Then he ran. He knew she was dead and couldn't bare to stick around and watch the paramedics tell him so. Was her boyfriend dead too? He didn't care.

He ran for a long time. The cold evening wind brushed his skin, his lungs burned and his joints ached. His mother had just died and yet he felt nothing but a cold numbness. There was nothing left in this place for him. There was no _one_ left in this place. No one who knew or cared much about Jasper Hale's existence.

He knew what the money was for.

It was for his only way out of this life.

And now there was nothing tying him down to it.

Jasper came to a sudden stop when he reached the gym. He stopped at catch his breath before he stepped inside.

"Evening, Jasper," A voice called over to him as soon as he stepped through the door. He turned to see just the person he was looking for.

"I need what you sell," Jasper said to Mr Jenks son. "And I need it to be good."

"How much you got?" He replied.

"Three hundred."

Mr Jenks son nodded. "I hate to tell you Jasper but I don't think you could pull off 21."

"I don't need to, make me 18."

"You can't buy beer with an ID that says you're 18 mate," J. Jenks sniggered.

"I'm not trying to buy beer," Jasper said simply.

"Fine," Jenks shrugged. "It'll take a week or so."

Jasper nodded. He could sleep in the gym without anyone noticing until it was ready.

"And Jenks?" Jasper called. "Don't use Hale, put my fathers name on it."

J. Jenks looked utterly indifferent. "Yeah? And what's that?"

Jasper took a deep breath, knowing for the first time in years that he was doing exactly the right thing.

"Whitlock."

* * *

 **AN: What did you think of Jaspers back story? Was it what you were expecting? Hope you enjoyed! And thank you all so much for reading and leaving your thoughts!**


	8. Day 7 in Dune

Chapter 8 – Day 7 in Dune

It wasn't until the day after their mission to the village, after the adrenalin had run dry, that Edward was truly grateful for what the girl had done for them. When the sun rose it marked their sixth day in this wasteland. After the excitement of finding the village Edward had thought they had made some progress, but everything was back to normal now and he realised all they had done was buy themselves a little more time.

Time, he feared, the Major didn't have much of.

When they sat down that day to drink and eat the Major refused to eat entirely. Sergeant forced the matter but Edward did not object, he feared a lack of food was not the Majors more pressing problem.

He also discovered something else, his concern for Sergeant McCarthy the other night had been valid. His leg had become infected. After some insisting the sergeant let Edward take a look. The skin was swollen and red, but the sergeant didn't appear to be running a fever…yet. Edward cleaned out the wound with as little water as he could manage and re-dressed it in the closest thing to a clean bandage they had. And in all honestly, it was very far from a clean bandage.

When the sun started to sink and cold set in, any courage Edward had gained the previous night was gone. Any hope that they could see this through had vanished.

He hoped the officers didn't hear him as he wept that night, but he didn't care much anymore if they did.

XXX

"Day 7!" The sergeant greeted the morning with more cheer than Edward was capable of mustering. "June 18th boys, we're not dead yet."

"Speak…for yourself." The Major said, his voice strangled and weak.

"Dead men don't talk, Whitlock!" The Sergeant called over as he started to sort through the supplies. "Okay, what have we here?" He mumbled to himself. "Enough food for two days but only enough water for one, could stretch it one and a half."

"We'll have to stretch it," Edward piped up. "Even following the road into the village we've found nothing, haven't even a single human being or vehicle. We're not close to civilisation yet."

Edward wasn't entirely sure why words were coming out of his mouth. All he wanted to do was lie back down in the sand and sleep. Sleep and hope that someone would just find him and he didn't need to spend another day losing hope in the sand.

He made his way over to the Sergeant, out of ear shit of Major Whitlock. "How's your leg, Sir?" He asked.

"I told you yesterday Cullen, it's nothing." He brushed him off.

"It's nothing, how are you feeling?" He asked. He couldn't be sure of he was asking for the Sergeants best interests or for his own. On one hand he wanted to make sure the Sergeant was okay, on the other he couldn't be sure he wasn't only doing it to ensure he wouldn't be left alone with two officers knocking on heavens door.

"Cullen, you make sure Major Whitlock makes it. That man has saved my life more times than I can count, probably more times than I know, and in more ways than one. I can take care of myself." The Sergeants eyes bore into Edwards, daring him to question him.

In their days here the lines of authority, so rigidly adhered to in the army, had somewhat blurred, but there was no doubting what Sergeant McCarthy was saying was an order. One that was to be followed unquestioningly.

He watched as the Sergeant, the giant bear like mass of him, knelt down beside the Major and coaxed him to drinking some water and eating a bit of flatbread. He wasn't the kind of man you would look at and think was capable of being so gentle. Edward had certainly never thought so before this happened.

In the army you got to know people so well, or at least you thought you did. But it wasn't until men were really challenged and their weakness exposed that their true traits came to light. Edward was astounded by the resilience of the two men in front of him, the compassion of Sergeant McCarthy and the strength of Major Whitlock, not physical strength, but an ability to keep going when most men would give up. Heck, the man was giving Edward motivational speeches after nearly a week lost on the desert with life threatening injuries. He could barely stand, but he was still stronger than Edward ever could be.

"Ready to go, Privet?" Called the Sergeant.

Edward wasn't ready to go. All he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and wait. Wait for someone to stubble across them or wait for…whatever else may come. But the Sergeant was weakening and the Major was barely still alive, yet they were still strong enough to keep fighting. If they could do it, Edward would be damned if he couldn't. "Yes, Sergeant." He called back.

There was very little to carry now, compared to when they started out. But it was still enough to make Edward grunt at the effort of hauling his backpack over his shoulders. Edward spotted the Major trying to prop himself up but his arms collapsed beneath him under his own weight.

 _He's going to die_.

Edward pushed the thought deep down and tried to hide the flash of pain from his face when he leaned over Major Whitlock and offered him a hand. Edward could feel a twisting him his gut as he pulled the Major to his feet, his own strength was waning and the effort left his muscles trembling. But it wasn't the physical exertion that made him sick, it was seeing someone so strong look so weak. If the Major died, who would get them through this?

The sergeant started walking on in front, compass in hand, though Edward wasn't confident he had any more idea of where they were than he did himself. He was limping on his bad leg but his stride was still strong. He was still Edwards commanding officer. Edward wasn't alone.

The Major took a step forward with Edward though his boot dragged in the sand. "You can do this, Sir." Edward said quietly. The Major said nothing, but a new line of determination on his face and another step forward told Edward he had heard.

And another day cad commenced where Edward took one step after another. His feet buried in sand and his skin blistering hot in the sun. He was sure his sweat drenched camo gear stunk worse than week old fish, though he had grown immune to the smell himself. He kept his eyes trained on Sergeant McCarthy and tried to ignore the expanse of beige in front of him. Beige sounded like such a benign colour, always used in book to describe the boring side character, their beige suit a symbol of their dull personality. It was never used in an exciting or malicious context. He felt like if he gained anything for this experience, it would be a new hatred of the colour beige, no longer just a colour for boring tertiary characters.

Edward wished the only thing he would take away from this was his new thoughts on the colour beige. He knew he would take much much more. Or maybe he wouldn't take anything. Maybe this was where it all ended.

He pushed the thought out of his mind again, like he did every time it came up. It was starting to come up more and more frequently. Instead to thought about something else, he thought about a girl with a pale face and dark hair. He thought about the day he finally worked up the courage to ask her if she would like to go to dinner, the day she had said yes.

" _Took you long enough," She smirked. "I was starting to think…"_

" _Starting to think what?" Edward asked, his palms still sweating from the anxiousness of asking her out and his head spinning from her saying yes._

" _That…you know…you weren't going to." She looked away from Edward and started picking at the hem of her oversized jacket. She looked so nervous suddenly, and shy. Edward had never thought of her as either of those things. She always looked so confident in herself, so proud to be who she was. He loved that about her._

" _I was just afraid you'd say no."_

 _She looked up at him, with those deep brown eyes, and Edward did something so bold he had no idea where it came from. He reached out and took her hand, sweaty palms and all. And she gripped it tight._

Even now in this hell of sand and sun and exhaustion, Edward had never really let go of that hand. It was the thing calling him home and forcing him onward. That hand, those eyes, that beautiful girl was counting on him.

"We should stop," The Sergeant said quietly. His normal booming voice diluted down. This time Edward was the only one who ate. He tried to let the thought distress him, pretended that he didn't notice anything amiss. He had enough water to stop his mouth feeling so dry but not enough to do much else.

Major Whitlock's eyes started drooping after they had sat for a few minutes.

"Major," Edward said with as much force as he could muster. "You can't sleep now!"

He mumbled something incoherently, but his eyes didn't open.

"Major we have to keep going today, not long left now, you can do it." Edward shook him, trying to keep him alert.

The major mumbled something else, this time more pronounced. Edward prayed he hadn't heard what he thought he had. Clearly the Sergeant heard it too, because she shifted in closed and was instantly inches away from Major Whitlock's pale face. "What did you just say?" He demanded.

"Leave. Me." The Major said again. Edwards fears confirmed.

"Major you can't…" Edward started.

"Fuck, no!" The Sergeant cursed. "You really think that after all the times you've saved my ass I would leave you here to die? No!"

The Majors mouth opened again but before any words could be said Sergeant McCarthy was rose unsteadily to his feet and pulled the major with him. "I am not leaving you here!" He said. Edward could have sword he heard tears in his voice, but he could hardly believe it.

"Come on, Cullen," He said. "We're moving."

"Sergeant are you sure you can…"

"Yes!"

Edward was no convinced the Sergeant would be able to support the Majors weight for long. His leg was infected and the little medicine Edward did know told him it had probably spread to his blood, which wasn't good.

But instead of fighting the Sergeant on this, because he knew he'd lose, he decided to walk on being grateful for the respite of carrying the wounded officer. This time Edward walked on ahead. He knew the general direction the Sergeant had been leading them and he was fairly sure you could manage to navigate for a while. He just wasn't entirely sure the navigation would get them anywhere.

Edward cast his mind once more to the girl waiting for him back home. He'd promised her she would see him again, promised he would come home and be with her. That had been nearly a year ago.

" _You can't be serious Edward!" She said, frowning in disbelief. They had been having the conversation for a long time and he could feel her resolve starting to waver._

" _Please don't be angry baby," He pleaded. "I have to do this."_

" _No you don't." She snapped._

" _Yes I do!" He protested. No matter what she said, he knew there would be no convincing him otherwise. He had rehearsed every outcome of this conversation already, he was ready for anything she threw at him. "I always knew I would have to do this. Even if it's only for a little while."_

 _Tears had started to form in the corners of her beautiful eyes. "You're going to leave me here?"_

 _Edward instantly took both her hand in his own. "I will never leave you, I will always be right here," He put their clasped hands against her chest, feeling her heart beat under his touch. "We'll be back together before you know it, I promise."_

" _Just promise me you'll come back," she whispered._

" _I promise."_

Edward was brought out of his head but a gut wrenching sound from behind him. He turned on his heal quicker than he thought he was able.

Major Whitlock had slumped into the sand, only upright because the Sergeant was kneeling behind him, holding him up. As Edward reached his side another painful cough ripped through the Major and a spray of blood covered the sand by his feet.

"Whitlock!" The Sergeant hissed, holding the Majors shoulders steady.

"Major?" Edward said, trying to hide the panic from his voice. The Major took a wet breath and tried to speak but another bloody cough was all he managed.

"What's happening?" The Sergeant demanded to Edward, he was doing little to hide the panic from his voice.

"I don't…I…" Edward mumbled. His eyes were erratically scanning the major when a sickening thought hit him. One of his deep wounds was high in the abdomen. "I think…maybe…there's still shrapnel in his wound…I think it's punctured his lung."

The already pale face of the Sergeant went white. He froze for a second but was shaken back into action when the Major jerked in his arms. "You need to breath, Whitlock! Come on soldier, you've been through worse."

Edward could have sworn he saw a smirk on the Majors face underneath the grimace of pain.

When Edward looked up his eyes met the Sergeants and they shared a silent thought. They both knew what they had to do, Edward could feel his stomach twisting at the thought.

When shrapnel was causing damage, you removed it.

"I can do it." Edward said quietly, so softly he wasn't sure the sergeant heard him. He had.

"Major this is going to hurt like hell," The Sergeant tore off his Velcro name badge and put it between the Major's teeth. "Bite down on this." The Major gave a tight nod in reply.

Edward pulled the Majors body as straight as he could, trying his best to ignore the moan of pain the followed every movement. They had no equipment to do this, so Edward washed his fingers with as little water as he could and knelt down beside the Major. He swallowed hard and tried not to think about what he about to do. That he was about to go searching with his bare fingers inside his commanding officers body for a piece of metal.

"I'm sorry," was all Edward could think to say before he peeled back the dry blood soaked bandages and did what had to be done.

The Major did not cry out like any other man would have. He went ridged under Edwards grasp but stayed as still as he could. But the moment Edwards fingers stopped touching flesh and reached something hard and sharp, the man went limp beneath him.

Edward looked up suddenly at Major Whitlock's pale face. Fear gripping his insides. He could see the Sergeants fingers pushing into Major Whitlock's neck. "He's alive," He sighed. "Passed out."

Edward took a shaky breath of relief. "Good," he nodded. His fingers took hold of the sharp object and pulled it from the majors still body.

"Done," He whispered. His voice small and unsteady. His fingers started to shake and Edward could feel tears stinging his eyes as he realised what he had just done.

"You did good, Cullen." Edward heard a voice far off say.

He dropped the jagged metal like it were red hot, turned from his officers and was violently sick into the unforgiving sand.

"I think we're done for the day." The far off voice said again.

* * *

 **SO, this is the penultimate chapter! I did say it would be short little story! Thanks so much to everyone who had left their comments, i love love love to hear from you guys! Hope you enjoyed!**


	9. Nine days in Dune

Chapter 9 – Nine days in Dune

On the seventh night, they couldn't sleep. It was not for lack of exhaustion, or desire to stay awake, it was just not a day you could easily fall asleep.

Night fell not long after they made camp. If it could even be called making camp anymore.

For a while they sat in silence under the stars, silence but for the Majors ragged breaths. But as least that meant he was alive.

"How did you end up here, Cullen?" The sergeant finally asked, breaking the silence. Edward was sure his voice was much weaker than it had been a few hours earlier.

"Well, we got bombed sir…and then we got lost." Edward replied.

The sergeant barked a short laugh. "I meant, why did you join the army?"

Edward was sure he would be blushing at that, thankfully it was too dark for the Sergeant to see. "Oh," He said with a smirk. "My father, he was an army medic."

"Ah, that explains it." The sergeant nodded.

"Explains what?"

"Why you're so good at dealing with broken soldiers." Edward could hear the smile in the Sergeants voice. It amazed him that after so much, and weakened as he was, he could still laugh and smile. Still care why Edward had joined the army. "So what, you wanted to follow in his foot steps?"

Edward sighed, wondering how to put his reasons into words. "Not really, I mean my father is a brilliant man and anyone would be happy to be like him but that's not why I joined." Edward thought back to the conversation with his mother all those years ago, when she told him his father would love him no matter what, even if it didn't seem like it. "I joined because I knew he would never look at me the same way if I didn't. He would never be proud of me if I didn't at least try."

There was silence for a moment while the Sergeant thought over how to respond to that. But it was a different voice that filled the silence.

"Not true," The Majors small voice filled the darkness.

"Major!" The Sergeant said. The Majors eyes opened slowly, glittering in the star light.

"How are you feeling, Major?" Edward asked, leaning closer.

The Major ignored them both and continued on, "I met your father, a few times." His words were weak and came out slowly, but they had time to listen.

"You did?" Edward asked.

"He was proud of you already," He whispered, his eyes turning to meet Edwards. "Never shut up about you." He smiled. Edward was still trying to process what the Major was saying when he spoke again. "He said you were going to Julliard. When you were assigned to me… he called me, told me to whip you into shape and get you back home."

Edward couldn't think of what to say, his mouth gapped open in the darkness, his eyes blinked in disbelief. "He…he did?" Edward stammered.

The Majors hummed in response. Had his father really thought that highly of him? Was his mom right all those years? It was all a bit too much to take in. He wasn't sure if she should feel happy or…angry? If his father had told him all that to his face, maybe he'd still be back home right now.

But if he had never left Forks, he would never have known that he was capable of so much. So much more than he could ever have dreamed. There were times he had felt so weak he wanted to give up, but he never had, he kept going. When it came down to it, Edward knew deep down he could face anything. After all, what more could life throw at him than this?

"Parents aren't perfect, Cullen." The Major said. "All they can do is their best." There was something in the Major's quiet voice that made Edward think he was not just talking about his father.

"My parents were pretty great!" The sergeant said, joining the conversation. The Major snorted a laugh. "They were! They raised me as well as any parent could have."

"Then why did you enlist?" Edward asked. It wasn't a question people asked often in the army. It wasn't like you were prison and you knew there was some story behind how everyone had ended up there. Edward hadn't thought about it until now, be he imagined it would a very interesting question to ask all those thousands of soldiers.

"I ended up in a dead end job and I needed something better, I saw a poster and thought I would give the military a go. Nearly five years later and I'm still here. My fiancé wasn't all too happy about the decision to say the least, but she knew it was right for me…" The Sergeant paused, running his hand through cold sand. "She's the only thing I regret, not being with her is tough."

The emotion in Sergeant McCarthy's was thick, Edward was sure if the light were stronger he would see tears shining in his eyes.

"Yeah," Edward mumbled, knowing the feeling well. There were no words of comfort, because no matter how much you knew you were doing the right thing, being away from the person you love is hard. "What's her name?" He asked.

"Rosalie." Replied the sergeant. "Her name is Rosalie and she is…so fucking amazing." He laughed. "I don't know why she's stuck with me all these years."

"Me neither," smirked the Major. That merited a light slap across the head for sergeant McCarthy as he gave a low chuckle.

"I haven't told anyone this," The Sergeants voice took a serious note. "I guess I didn't want to jinx it or anything but…well…fuck it…. the night before I left for this tour, eight months ago, we found out she was pregnant."

Edward had no idea what to say. His mouth lolled open in the silence because although he wasn't sure what the Sergeant was going to tell them, he didn't think it would be that.

"McCarthy, you sly bastered." Major Whitlock said slowly, a smile in his weak voice. "Why didn't…you tell me?"

"I guess it just didn't feel real." He said. "And now…god damn it I really want to meet that kid."

"You will." Edward said. He wasn't sure he believed it, but it was what he had to say, it was what the Sergeant had to believe.

The Sergeant snorted, "Look at us Cullen? If this idiot hadn't collapsed I'm pretty sure I would have! We have no idea where we are and even if we did we all know we can't make it much further, we have no way of getting help, we have no water left. We're out of luck, Cullen. This is it. This is all we had in us, it wasn't enough."

Edward couldn't tell if was desperation, hatred, pain, longing or venom in his voice. Whatever it was, it wasn't the Sergeants usual infectious energy. Edward swallowed down a lump in his throat and blinked away the tears threatening to spill over. Hearing those words come from the Sergeant's mouth…it was almost more than he could take.

But suddenly something very unexpected happened. The Major started laughing, a low quiet sound, but unmistakable. "Don't call…you're commanding officer…an idiot." He laughed.

And then, simultaneously, Edward started laughing and felt big wet tear drops track down his face. He could hear the Sergeant laughing too. And though Edward wasn't quite sure what he was laughing about, or what he was crying over, it felt good.

"You're gonna go back…and make an honest woman of that girl, McCarthy." The Major said when the merriment was died away in the night.

"Yeah," He said softly. "I've kept her waiting far too long."

Edward could imagine Sergeant McCarthy as a father, he would make a good one. He had this picture in his head of the Sergeant throwing round a football in the back yard and hoisting a small child into his broad shoulders. It was a future he deserved to have.

"What about you, Cullen?" A voice pulled him from his reprieve.

"Huh?" Edward mumbled.

"You got a girl waiting back home," The Sergeant clarified. "Or a boy!" He added quickly "Whatever you're in to."

Edward chucked. "Yeah…I have a girl." He smiled and paused before saying something out loud he hadn't said in a very long time. "Actually, I have a wife."

Edward couldn't quite make out the Sergeant expression and the majors face was hidden in darkness, but he was pretty sure they were both gaping at him.

"Privet Cullen!" The sergeant exclaimed. "Someone's husband! Well I did not see that coming, I would have been less surprised if you _did_ have a boyfriend."

"Yeah, I know we're young but…when you know you know." He shrugged. "And she's the one. After she calmed down from the news I was running away to join the army I asked her, she wanted to do it before I left so our families threw together something simple."

"God, do you think she could talk to Rose for me?" The Sergeant groaned. "She wants the big white wedding, all the bells, all the whistles, a couple of doves to top it off. It's part of the reason it's taken us so long!"

"She is…particular." The Major smiled.

"And you Major?" Edward asked. "Anyone special."

"No," the Major sighed.

"Never?" asked the Sergeant. "Not even someone before you joined up?" It surprised Edward that the Sergeant didn't already know this, they always had seemed the best of friends. Yet again, the Major was not the sharing sort. Maybe now was the only time the Sergeant had felt comfortable to ask.

"No," the Major confessed. "I was only sixteen when I enlisted, too young to care about a relationship."

"You were sixteen?" Edward said in amazement.

"Sixteen?" The Sergeant said at the same time. Clearly it was news to him too.

"Yup," He relied.

"How?" Said Edward.

"Why?" Demanded the Sergeant.

They both shared a look that said 'we have to stop doing that' and then looked back at the Major. Edward could just make out a smile playing on his lips.

"How is easy," He said. "I knew a guy." His voice was so soft it was almost dream like, but it wasn't difficult to hear him in the silence of the night time dessert. "Why? Well…my mother killed herself with heroin, one day I came home and she was dead on the floor. There was no one else in the world who knew or cared about me so I left. Best thing I ever did."

"Shit, Whitlock! I never knew!" Frowned the Sergeant. He reached his hand over and grasped the majors shoulder.

"I never told you," The Major said simply. "I never told anyone."

"You could have told me; you know?" The Sergeant said softly.

"It never really came up."

"Wow, army squadrons should get lost out in the Dunes more often, find out all our secrets!" The Sergeant boomed. "Who would have thought, a daddy to be, a husband and a sixteen-year-old felon."

"I'm not a felon!" The Major protested.

"Sir, I'm pretty sure in most states using a fake ID is a felony. And I'm almost positive using one to enlist in the US army is frowned upon." Edward pointed out.

"Oh, well…don't tell anyone, that's an order." The Major said, his voice had grown fainter now.

"Your secret's safe with us, sir." Edward assured him.

He wasn't sure what shocked him more, that fact that the upstanding, above-reproach Major had illegally enlisted in the army, or that his only family had been a mother addicted to heroin. Edward had always assumed the Major had been like him, from a middle class army family. He seemed the type. He'd never imagined a scared kid coming home to find his mom had died and running away. He said had no family or friends, he must have been so frightened and alone. It was unbelievable he had become the man he was today.

"Army strong," The Sergeant said softly as he reached out again to lay a hand on the Majors shoulder.

The Majors breaths had evened out as he fell asleep. The Sergeants eye lids were starting to close as well. Edward felt his own body starting to weaken and beg for rest. The sun was starting to rise again, thought Edward could have sworn they were only talking for a matter on minutes.

"Sergeant," Edward whispered. "You'll get home to your kid. You'll marry their mother. We're going to get out of here."

The Sergeant hummed in reply and sunk back into the cold sand.

Edward couldn't leave them here, wasn't even sure he had the strength left _to_ leave. But he used what little strength he had left now. He gathered up their backpacks and pilled them on top of each other, he found the red polythene bag the kind girl's flatbread had been wrapped inside and he attached it to the top. It wasn't much. But if it caught someone's attention, it was enough.

Edward felt his body collapse beneath him after his pitiful beckon was made. His last bit of strength gone.

They would sleep through day 8.

When he closed his eyes, he saw a beautiful woman standing waiting for him.

When he closed his eyes, he wasn't sure they would open again.

When he closed his eyes, he thought it would be for the last time.

XXX

When light filled Edward's vison, he could have sworn he was dead. Until he noticed bodies moving around him. There was a voice someone in the distance, but it wasn't talking to him.

"Hey there Major, I'm lieutenant Alice Brandon, we've called for a pick up. You'll be out of here soon. Just hang on a little longer."

Someone had found them.

Edward kept his eyes open, watching the new soldiers move around him. Watched the Majors pale eye lids flutter open as a small soldier tended his wounds. Watched as the Sergeant's eyes light up, knowing he would see his child. A smile played at the corner of Edwards mouth as he let himself believe, for the first time in a long time, that he was going home for good, to his Bella.

Nine days in Dune, it was over.

* * *

 **Our story ends here, but for anyone who's interested;**

 **Privet Edward Cullen went home to Bella but returned to the army for a further two tours, after which he moved back to forks, went to collage and became a music teacher. A few years after Edwards return their daughter Renessme was born.**

 **Sergeant Emmett McCarthy recovered nicely but was left with a limp, he left the army for good, married Rosalie, got a job in the army cadets and raised his son like his parents had raised him, as best he could.**

 **Major Jasper Whitlock made a full recovery under the care of army medic lieutenant Alice Brandon, they continues to serve their country together until they discovered they were expecting a child. Jasper took a step back from the front line, but he would never leave the army.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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